


The World Drops Dead

by sunkelles



Series: Pjo Femslash Weeks [10]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Dark, Dancing in the Rain, F/F, Femslash, Guys this is dark I'm just warning you, It sounds fluffy but it's not I promise, Kissing in the Rain, Ouija Boards, PJO Femslash Weeks, Sibling Relationship, Thunderstorms, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:12:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2288084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bianca moves in near Thalia, and the world seems to be growing brighter. But a single, reckless choice changes the course of both of their fates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Drops Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath, the poem that I took the title from, or Unfinished Business by White Lies. 
> 
> I dunno if I like how this turned out in general. But it's in time for Thalianca week, so that's something. 
> 
> See bottom for warnings and additional notes

_So get of your low, let's dance like we used to!_

_But there's a light in the distance, waiting for me_

_I WILL WAIT FOR YOU_

_So get of your low, let's kiss like we used to_

Unfinished Business by White Lies

* * *

 

 

Through out her childhood, Thalia and her family live in a large, white farmhouse. She knows that her father iswealthy and distant. She also knows that her mother is sick, though not of the body, of the mind. Her mother dies shortly after her brother’s birth, and though her father claims that it was a heart-attack, Thalia suspects that it was suicide. She does know some things, even at the ripe old age of seven.

The smaller, green tinted house sits empty until Thalia’s sixteenth birthday, when Jason is ten. The family that takes up residence in the smaller house is composed of three members: the stoic father, Hades, Bianca, his fifteen year old daughter, and Nico his nine year old son. She learns these facts from her father, and that is the only thing that he says that night before leaving the room.

 

Her name is Bianca di Angelo. She is funny, sarcastic, off-key, and is fiercely overprotective of her little brother. She is a perfect match for Thalia.

* * *

 

 

She plants herself on the couch and refuses to leave until Thalia talks to her. Thalia gives in after about thirty minutes. She knows because an entire program passes before she acknowledges the girl sitting on her couch.

“What are you doing here?” she asks swiftly. Thalia has always been blunt, and sometimes it has not served her well. The girl, however, does not react badly.

“I am watching TV,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the universe. She lifts her green ball cap slightly to give herself a better view, and Thalia notices that her eyes are a deep brown.

“No,” Thalia says, back-pedaling, “What are you doing in my house?”

The girl sends her a skeptical look and repeats, “Watching TV?”

Thalia takes a deep breath to prevent herself from strangling the other girl.

“ _Why_ are you in my house,” she amends, and she hopes to god that she’ll get a straight answer this time.

Sadly, it seems that the girl is unable of providing anything that resembles a straight answer as she responds with: the door was unlocked.

“Who are you?” Thalia asks, because she can’t believe that she didn’t get to this part earlier.

“Bianca di Angelo,” she says. Thalia almost facepalms. She can’t believe that she didn’t realize this earlier; of course the girl is her new neighbor.  And after this, to Thalia’s complete confusion, they just start _talking_ in a friendly manner. And they just seem to click. The day passes quickly this way, and Thalia doesn’t even notice that it has happened until the windows have gone dark and Bianca has to leave.

* * *

 

 

The next day, after school, Bianca comes over again, but this time, she brings her little brother. Nico is a tiny ball of energy and Thalia is instantly certain that Jason will either love him or loath him. She hopes that it’s the former; she enjoys having Bianca around.

* * *

 

 

Bianca and Nico are both at the Grace house more often than not, because Jason seems to like Nico as well as Thalia likes Bianca. Thalia thinks that it is good for Jason to have a friend live so close to them who is close to his age.

* * *

 

Things become even more interesting a month or so later when Thalia learns of Bianca’s obsession with the occult.

“Is that an Ouija board?” Thalia asks skeptically.

“Of course,” Bianca says, and then she sits it down on the kitchen table.

“And you want to try it?” Thalia asks.

“Yes,” Bianca says as she raises an eyebrow.

“Do you really think it will do something?” Thalia asks. She’s never believed in the supernatural. But then again, Bianca seems to.

“Yes,” Bianca says. Thalia shrugs. She guesses it won’t be any harm to do this when she doesn’t believe it will have any effect. Bianca sets the board flat.

“So what’s with the pointer-thingy?” Thalia asks, picking it up between her fingers. Bianca steals it out of her grasp.

“It is a called a planchette,” she asserts. Thalia shrugs. She tends to think that pointer-thingy makes more sense, but whatever. She didn’t make the game. So they start working with the board and “communing with spirits” but nothing out of the ordinary happens and Bianca seems disappointed. Thalia almost is as well, solely because of that.

Jason and Nico peak their heads into the kitchen from the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Jason asks.

"Communing with spirits," Bianca says, but she sounds disappointed. That had been the intention, but it hadn't gone well. 

"You're trying to talk to ghosts?" Jason asks, and Nico just shakes his head. 

"That's an Ouija Board," he says by way of explanation. 

"Oh, right," Jason says, and Thalia can tell that her brother has no idea what that is. 

"Come on," Nico says, "I want to get a whole round it before supper." Nico disappears back down the stairs. 

"Have a good time with your ghosts," Jason says, and he follows Nico back down the stairs. Bianca looks back down at the Ouija Board and sighs. 

"This isn't going to do anything, is it," She says. 

"Probably not," Thalia agrees, "but we could watch a scary movie." Bianca's eyes light up a little bit at that, and then the two rush to the living room, leaving the Ouija Board forgotten on the table. 

* * *

 

 

Thalia finds that homework is at least five times more interesting when she does it with Bianca. It doesn’t hurt that they are currently studying the Salem Witch Trials, and Bianca of course, has an obsession with the paranormal.  

“How many people were hanged for witchcraft?” Thalia asks, looking to the answer in her book.

“Nineteen,” Bianca says swiftly, and Thalia suspects that she knew this answer before class today, “and of course, one man was pressed to death.” This was a piece of information that hadn’t come up in class.

“Pressed to death?” Thalia asks, looking up from her textbook.

“He refused to plea either guilty or innocent,” Bianca says, “and they would place a stone on his chest and then ask him how he pled. He never would, though, and he ended up dying from it.”

“How do you know this?” Thalia asks incredulously. Though she really should be able to guess. This is the girl who brought an Ouija Board over for kicks. 

“I’m interested in stuff like that,” she says, “Witchcraft, ghosts, vampires: the supernatural.”

“There weren’t any witches in Salem,” Thalia says.

“Not that we know of,” Bianca corrects with a teasing gleam in her eye. Thalia just laughs.

“Of course none of them were witches,” she says, “that sort of thing doesn’t exist.”  
“That we know of,” Bianca corrects with another gleam in her eyes. Thalia doesn’t respond this time, and Bianca doesn’t elaborate on her sentence. She simply scans through her textbook for a question to ask Thalia, and the topic is quickly forgotten as soon as it was addressed.

* * *

 

 

The rain falls quickly from the furious sky. It is pitch black, except for when lighting casts an eerie glow upon the sky, illuminating every raindrop like a crystal.

Thalia is entranced.

“It’s really bad out there,” Bianca says softly, putting a hand on Thalia’s shoulder.

“I know,” Thalia says, a touch of awe in her tone.

“You’re not thinking of going out there, are you?” Bianca asks incredulously.

“Of course _I_ won’t,” Thalia says, “ _WE_ will.” Bianca shakes her head in disbelief.

Bianca stares at her for a moment before she says, “You can’t honestly expect me to go out in that.” As if to accentuate her point, the sky rumbles with thunder. Thalia grabs her hand and looks at her.

“Look, it’s just like the Ouija Board, nothing’s going to happen,” she says, looking deeply into the abyss that is Bianca’s eyes, “It’ll just be an adventure.”

"I actually wanted something to happen with the Ouija Board," Bianca protests.

"Maybe something will happen now," Thalia suggests. Bianca sighs but then smiles a bit.

“Alright,” she says. They don’t let go of each other’s hands as Thalia throws open the door and steps into the whirlwind.

* * *

 

 

The wind howls and the lighting crackles, but the two dance and skip around like it’s some sort of fantastic game. The water-logged world is their playground. Swiftly, Bianca stops, and Thalia almost asks her why before her lips are seized in a searing kiss. Her hair is soaked, as are her clothes, but the other girl’s lips are so warm against hers, and her hands are working their way into Bianca’s sopping hair. And just as she is starting to melt into the kiss, the sensation of the rain falling on her skin and the sounds of the thunderstorm, Bianca breaks away. She prances away with a puckish grin on her face and a light in her eyes. Her wet black hair almost melts into her form and her smile is as wide as Thalia has ever seen it. She has never looked more beautiful. Thalia chases after her, laughter in her lungs, but the grass is wet and slippery. She falls, laughing all the way.

 

She doesn’t worry about the grass stain she might have on her dark blue jeans, but pushes herself back up. She doesn’t worry about the way that her dark eye-shadow has probably smeared; she just looks at Bianca twirling around amid the rain and the lightning and smiles. There is a burst of lightning straight above them, and it lights up the sky in a way that seems impossible. She hears a loud boom, and then she sees a second, more powerful stroke come down from the sky. It goes straight through Bianca di Angelo and is followed by the loudest clap of thunder Thalia has ever heard. A pained sound pierces the air, and Bianca falls gracelessly to the ground.

 

Thalia is not smiling anymore. Her face has contorted into a look of horror, and the sound that escapes her lips is not human. Before she knows it, she finds herself draped over Bianca.

“Bianca,” she whispers, her name a broken, sound. The body is limp in her arms.

“Bianca, Bianca, Bianca,” she says, repeating the name over and over again. The name becomes a mantra, each time a prayer. But Bianca does not stir. Her eye lids do not flicker. She does not spring into Thalia’s arms; she does not plant a passionate kiss on Thalia’s lips.

 

Thalia’s throat feels like it is constricting. Her eyes burn, wet with tears. But she tries to take a deep breath. There is still a chance, there is always a chance. She grabs Bianca’s hand, intertwines their fingers, and then turns the wrist to her. She checks the other girl’s pulse, and finds none. Thalia has been holding up the sky, and in this moment, it falls on top of her. Her throat burns in grief and guilt and _rage._ The tears fall down her face, and she gently presses her forehead to Bianca’s.

 

It does nothing. The weight of Thalia’s emotions still presses down on her, and the tears still fall. Even the sky is crying, weeping at the atrocity that has occurred. But the sound of rain and the lightning is no longer a lullaby. It is the sound of a battle zone, and Bianca is the only casualty.

 

She keeps hold of Bianca, fingers intertwined, as she sits in the rain and cries, the rain mixing with her tears.

* * *

 

 

Nico blames her, with good reason. The tiny boy curses and yells when he finds out and he never looks at her the same way afterwards. Thalia can’t really blame him, because he’s correct. It’s her fault. It’s all her fault, and the guilt presses against her chest like the weight of the world. She remembers something that she and Bianca had read once, late at night about the Salem Witch Trials. A man, she can’t recall his name, had refused to plead either guilty or innocent to the charges pressed against him, and they pressed him to death with stones.

It feels as though that is happening to her right now. But she knows that if it were, she would be able to remove the weights from her chest.

 

She’d have pled guilty, because she is. She is, and she knows it.

* * *

 

 

 They bury her six feet under. She wears a white dress against what was once her gorgeous tan skin and her dark, black hair, but is now starting to look like death. Thalia supposes that it’s as nice of a ceremony as a funeral can be, and she feels something that might be closure. After they place the last bit of dirt on the casket, Thalia expects that she has seen the last of Bianca di Angelo.

  
She was wrong.

* * *

 

 

It starts out small. The constant feeling of being watched is strange, but she can deal with it. it’s much like the burning she feels in her throat, or the guilt pressing constantly against her chest. She takes it as a new fact of life in this world without Bianca, without Bianca because Thalia as good as killed her. But soon Thalia starts to realize that this feeling comes not from within, like her guilt, but from without. She starts seeing a figure at the edge of her vision, in the dark parts of hallways, and in that moment between sleeping and waking.

* * *

 

 

The figure follows her constantly with her limp black hair and her dead black eyes, and Thalia knows exactly who it is. There is no way that she could mistake the face of Bianca di Angelo. Thalia tells herself that this is just her imagination. Her guilty conscience is acting up. But the ghastly figure does not leave. She stays to the corner of Thalia’s peripheral when Thalia is in the house, and Thalia starts to wonder if Bianca’s belief in the paranormal wasn’t just bullshit.

* * *

 

 

The cold feeling behind her never leaves, even when the specter does. At school, at the super market, she always feels as though the ghost of Bianca di Angelo is staring at her with her hollow eyes and Thalia wants to claw her eyes out. She wants to do anything to make this feeling leave her, to make Bianca leave her alone. She hadn’t meant to, to lead her to her death. The guilt makes her feel as though she lives in a world without air, isn’t that enough? Must she live her life constantly looking over her shoulder for the specter of her dead friend? Must she live with the hollow eyes and the cold glare as well?

* * *

 

 

Every sound becomes the light steps of Bianca’s feet. Every gust of wind is her doing. Thalia knows this, intuitively, as the girl never leaves her peripheral vision. She is always there, in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, Bianca’s ghost is standing there, taunting her. When a hand grasps her forearm, her first instinct is to scream. Bianca’s ghost has finally taken form. She’ll take her well-deserved revenge on her, and Thalia can’t do anything but scream.

“Thalia!” Shouts a voice that is most decidedly not Bianca’s. Thalia turns abruptly around and finds herself looking at the terrified face of her little brother.

“Jason,” she says, “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t know what else to say. Does she apologize for the ghost in their house? Does she apologize for the fact that Nico no longer visits their house? Jason decides their topic of conversation for her.

“I’m worried about you,” Jason says. Thalia is taken aback. This is not what she had expected him to lead with.

“What do you mean?” she asks, and he laughs bitterly in response.

“Like you don’t know,” he says, and then his face softens.

“You haven’t been eating,” he says, “you’ve been looking around corners as if you expect someone to come out from them and kill you.” Thalia almost raises an eyebrow, but she can’t find it in herself to. It’s not like he’s wrong.

“You look like a ghost,” Jason says and the pain in his voice is almost tangible. Thalia can tell that he wants to say more, but cannot find the words to.

“Jace,” she says, “I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says in exasperation, “Just talk to me!”

“What do you want me to talk to me about?” Thalia asks, a hint of acid entering her tone, “About how I killed my best friend? About how her ghost is haunting me?”

“You didn’t kill her,” Jason shouts, and there are tears threatening to peak through his eyelashes, “A thunderstorm did! I know Nico told you that it was your fault, but it wasn’t.”

“Bianca thinks that it was,” Thalia says, and she has no idea why she says it aloud. But she does. The words are out in the open now, and she cannot take them back.

“Bianca is dead,” Jason says, and it isn’t said with derision or with an intention to hurt her, it’s just stated as fact, “and we both know she wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Thalia laughs, a bitter, maddened laugh.

“Then why won’t her ghost leave me alone?” she asks.

Jason looks to her as if she’s gone completely crazy. Thalia doesn’t know. Maybe she has. And that’s when his tears start to fall, and Thalia notices that her own cheeks are wet. She doesn’t even remember when the tears started to fall.

“Ghosts don’t exist,” he says, “we both know that. Your Ouja board did nothing. Thalia, I promise you, no one is haunting you. Please just talk to me.” But Thalia is looking behind him, to the girl hiding in the shadows with her lifeless eyes and Thalia flees to her room.

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Jason tries to talk to her, but Thalia is out the door before he can catch her. She doesn’t need to hear his nonsense anymore. And he doesn’t need to hear hers. He needs to keep Nico close while he can, and try to stay out of her wake. Thalia wishes her brother nothing but happiness, and right now, she can’t help him achieve that. Not with Bianca’s ghost starring over her shoulder. Thalia sits down on the couch, and tries to think of anything but the figure in the shadows at the end of the hallway as the rain starts to fall. It does not take long at all for the rain speed to increase and for the thunder to begin to crackle.

 

The sky sounds like a war zone, and it makes Thalia nostalgic. The thing about nostalgia, however, is that one can seldom reclaim the things they feel nostalgia for. Tonight is not like that one so long ago. Tonight, there is no joy. There is no laughter. There will be no kissing in the rain. The sounds of the sky are a requiem, not a lullaby, and no longer a war zone. The sky knows what will happen as well as Thalia does.

 

Bianca’s dead eyes taunt her from across the room. The other woman will not leave her alone, and she never will. Thalia knows that she deserves it. But this decision is stemmed not from guilt, but from desperation. . She stands from her spot on the fading, red easy chair and looks to the darkened corner one last time, catching another glimpse of Bianca’s expressionless face. Thalia walks over to Bianca’s ghostly form, and this time, she does not dissolve.

“Come with me?” she asks. She might be completely insane; she probably is, but she can feel Bianca take her hand. She feels solid, real against her fingertips. If it weren’t for the dead eyes it might be like old times. Thalia twines her fingers with the specter’s. She throws the door open to the howling sound of the wind. Then, Thalia steps onto the threshold.

 

The thunder claps above her head as the rain beats down against the ground. She turns to meet Bianca’s dead, dead eyes and then drags her out into the tempest. The wind is howling, beating against her face. She is immediately soaked, and Bianca looks even more ghostly with her hair wet against her, it reminds Thalia again what an awful ghost of the past this whole situation is.

 

She grabs both of Bianca’s hands and twirls her around. The dancing is almost like it used to be, and Thalia allows herself to be swept away in the moment. She’s laughing and a few moments later she’s kissing a brick wall. There is no passion, no response, and she immediately remembers that this is not Bianca. But she’s too high in the moment to care much. The realization that this is just a caricature, a travesty does not weigh down on her as she breaks away from the dispassionate kiss. She just grins at Bianca’s expressionless face and twirls about outside. The sky is roaring above her, like a hungry lion waiting for the kill. But Thalia just skips as the sky puts on a light show for her and Bianca stares back.

 

She stands still for a moment, and the inevitable flash finally comes. There is a searing, white-hot pain. And then, there is nothing at all. Nothing but peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for major character deaths/suicide 
> 
> Also, the name of the man who was pressed to death was Giles Corey in case anyone was wondering. Also, if you're interested in the Salem Witch Trials/ have not read/seen the Crucible, you should read/watch it. I fucking love that play.


End file.
